


OPERATION: DADSKALL IS A GO

by mafia_V



Category: Hermitcraft, The Weight Of Lies (Hermitcraft)
Genre: BastardBin, Dadskall TWOL au, Gen, I'm your dad ! boogie woogie woogie, The Weight Of Lies, parental au boys !
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mafia_V/pseuds/mafia_V
Summary: or, Surprise Bench You've Got, Parents
Relationships: Grian & Iskall
Comments: 13
Kudos: 220





	OPERATION: DADSKALL IS A GO

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BastardBin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardBin/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Weight of Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027974) by [BastardBin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardBin/pseuds/BastardBin). 



Grian is  _ this close _ to finally dozing off when he hears the creak of old wood being stepped upon, just outside the cabin. He sits up abruptly, watching the door and listening closely. Who could be down here, at his shipwreck ?  _ Why _ would someone come down here ? Grian takes a deep breath. It's probably nothing, he reasons. Someone knocks lightly on the cabin door. Grian sighs and crawls out of his nest, frowning regretfully at the comfortable bed before checking his glamor and approaching the door.

It's Iskall on the other side. He looks.. nervous ?

"Hallo, Grian." Iskall looks at him searchingly, and Grian shrinks back a little. "....Can I talk to you about something ?"

Grian shrugs and steps out of the way, inviting Iskall into the cabin. Iskall fidgets with his cufflinks, looking around fretfully. Grian shifts back and forth on his feet, uncomfortable and worried. "Uh, sorry about the mess...."

Iskall shakes his head. "No, it is okay. Honestly we joke at you about your storage habits but the rest of us are just as bad," he says, humor in his voice. Grian relaxes a little. If Iskall is laughing with him then whatever he wants to talk about can't be too bad.

"..You wanted to talk about something ?"

"I— yeah," Iskall says. The slight smile he had worn slides off his face, and he rubs at his temples. "I.... do not really know how to begin."

Grian frowns. "What's this about, Iskall ? It must be important for you to be here so late."

Iskall takes a deep breath. "I just, don't want to scare you."

Something cold settles in Grian's chest. "......scare me ?"

Iskall looks up at him, then. He looks— Grian doesn't know how to describe the emotion on his face. Iskall closes his eyes. "It is not.... I am not here to hurt you," he says quietly, hands spread out in a peaceful gesture, palms open. "Please just keep that in mind."

Grian nods slowly. He trusts Iskall. He— he  _ wants _ to trust Iskall. He watches anxiously as Iskall glances at the door, and then consciously steps in front of it to block him from escaping that way. Iskall must see the fear on his face, in the defensive tense of his wings. He holds his hands up a little higher, looking just as anxious as Grian feels.

"......I know that you are a demon," Iskall says. Grian can't even manage to play stupid; his face blanches and he takes a step back from the shock. His breath is coming faster. His vision has zeroed in on Iskall's boots. He realizes distantly that he's started shaking. Grian hears a small  _ oh no _ from across the room, and then Iskall's boots step forward. He flinches, bringing his arms up to cross in front of his face.

He jolts in shock when, instead of harming him, Iskall pulls him into a tight hug.

Iskall rests his cheek against Grian's head and squeezes him close with a sigh. "Shh," he hushes, and then hesitantly reaches up to lightly tug and scratch at the hair right by the base of his horns. Immediately Grian melts into the touch, vague memories swirling in his mind's eye of brown and green and pink, of impressions of voices whispering comforting words long forgotten, of soft hands, calloused hands, in his hair to soothe him much like this. He whines, and lets the glamor fizzle out for the first time in weeks, and Iskall coughs out a noise that's more a sob than it is laughter.

"Wh...." Grian can hardly form words. It's been almost longer than he can remember, since someone soothed him like this. Iskall shakes his head slowly, and Grian realizes that the other man is crying.

"I knew it was you," he murmurs hoarsely, "I knew it." Grian makes a confused noise, and Iskall rubs his back with the hand that's not on his head. "Do you remember ? You probably don't. It was so long ago...." He sniffles. " _ Gods _ . I wish I had never let you go. I wish I had kept you safe...."

Grian struggles to pull back, not for Iskall restraining him but instead because of how bonelessly relaxed he's become. Iskall helps him stand upright. When Grian looks up at his face he's met with tears streaking down Iskall's cheek and into his beard, his natural eye red and puffy around the edges. Iskall hiccups and holds his shoulder with one hand, reaching up with the other to brush the hair out of Grian's face. He touches a spot above Grian's right eye, a spot where Grian knows he has a small scar. He frowns. That scar has been covered by his hair for years, there's no way Iskall should know about it. Or about his heritage....

"What is going on ?" Grian croaks helplessly.

Iskall takes a shaky breath and lets it out slow. "You were a baby when I— when I took you in," he whispers. "You were barely one year old. You had no idea what was happening. You were so small."

Grian shakes his head in denial. "That's impossible," he says.

"You remember— what I told you. During the civil war." Grian nods hesitantly. "My— my superiors didn't know that the— the man they sent me to kill had a child...." Grian inhales sharply. "I hid you away, and left the hunters as soon as I was able. I built us a home, in a mountainside, far away from everything else. I started seeing Stress around that time. I had accidentally settled us near her mother's home.." Iskall smiles wetly, his eyes closed in reminiscence. "I had no idea how to care for a baby. She was so much help. You were such a cheerful baby. You loved the chickens."

"This is impossible," Grian whispers.

Iskall cups his face with both hands. "We had you for nearly six years. You were still so young. But we heard rumors of hunters in the area, looking for someone harboring a demon child...." Iskall grimaces. "I never wanted to leave you behind. I tried so hard to find another way. But they came in the night. They ransacked our home. The three of us barely escaped into the Nether. We thought a pigman tribe would be the safest place to leave you for a while. We were going to wait until it was safe and then bring you back to the Overworld with us." Iskall looks down at his feet. "By the time it was safe and we went back to the area, the tribe we left you with had moved. There was no way for us to find you again. All this time I had hoped...."

Iskall looks up at him, and then swipes his thumb under Grian's eye. Grian touches his own face and realizes that he's crying. Iskall's eye has a deep sadness in it as he regards Grian. Grian stares back, trying to match what's in front of him to the vague shapes in his memory. If he was really that young, it would make sense that he doesn't remember ?

"My scar," he murmurs. "What is it from ?"

Iskall glances at the small mark. He smiles. "We brought a cat home when you were four. You loved it. You loved any soft animal that you came across. But you pestered it one too many times and it swatted at you. I was so scared when I heard you start crying. But I got you cleaned up and I gave you a bandaid and by the time Stress got home you were back to pestering the cat again. I think you named her Pumkin. Not pumpkin, you insisted that there wasn't another  _ p _ in it," he chuckles.

Grian blinks in shock. It's a fuzzy memory, but he  _ does _ remember getting scratched by an orange cat, and leaning against something— or some _ one _ — warm and much bigger than him.

Iskall sighs, and Grian focuses back on him. "Is it foolish of me, that even after all this time I still consider you my son ?"

Fresh tears well in Grian's eyes and, instinctively, he lunges forward to throw his arms around Iskall's shoulders. Iskall catches him, and lifts him by the waist to spin him around, laughing through his own tears. Grian sags against him, and Iskall returns one hand to his hair.

"Some people know," Iskall murmurs apologetically. "Stress, obviously. I have also told Xisuma. I.... also mentioned it to Mumbo," he says hesitantly. Grian jerks back, a spike of fear coursing through him. "I don't think he has made the connection about his wings. That boy is such a spoon."

"I—"

"I am not going to interrogate you about the wings," Iskall interrupts him before he can even speak. "You can tell me or not. Most of us figured it out pretty quickly, though."

Grian curls in on himself. "Everyone knows ?" he asks weakly. Iskall hums a confirmation, pulling him back into a hug.

"I promise you that you are safe here," he says firmly. "None of us would ever intentionally hurt you." He pauses. "Not even Doc."

Grian scoffs at that. "Really ?"

"Yes, really. He may be a bit of an asshole but he would not be here if he was not a good person underneath all the bravado."

Grian sighs and buries his face in Iskall's shoulder. Iskall rubs his back, and Grian blinks hard, fatigue rolling over him as the high emotions wear down. He yawns. Iskall smiles down at him and nudges him back toward his bed.

"I should let you get some rest. You don't get nearly enough of it."

Grian crawls back into his blanket nest and peers out at Iskall, his head pillowed on his arms and wings folded loosely. Iskall ruffles his hair before turning toward the door. Grian yawns again. "Iskall ?"

Iskall turns back toward him, something fond on his face, looking like a large weight has been lifted from his shoulders despite the drying tears. "Yes, Grian ?"

"Do you and Stress have any pictures of me when I was little ?"

Iskall grins. "We do. I have them put away. Do you want to see them sometime soon ?"

Grian nods tiredly. Iskall sighs softly and crosses the room once more, crouching down and petting his hair. Grian hums and leans into the touch. Iskall moves Grian's bangs out of the way with one hand, and leans down to leave a kiss on his forehead.

"You've grown so much," he whispers as Grian's breath slows and evens. "I am so  _ proud _ of you."

He stands slowly, lingering nearby for a moment or three, before he finally slips out the door and begins the swim to the surface. He can't wait to tell Stress.

Iskall grins to himself. Maybe they can show Mumbo all the embarrassing baby pictures.


End file.
